We're expecting our second child around Thanksgiving of this year. I'm about 12 weeks right now. So I'm almost done with 1/3rd of my pregnancy. YAY~!!!
I've decided that I don't do pregnancy well... AT ALL!! My body is a little selfish. It hates to be interrupted and boy howdy those hormones from pregnancy send my body into a frenzie. This pregnancy has been a LOT better than my first, but I'm still struck with some pretty awful nausea. Feeling sick isn't so hot.. and it's especially worse when you have to chase around a 1 year old in the meantime. Poor little Anthony has no idea what to expect when I'm sick. He just stares at me. The worst night we've had so far happened to be while Daddy was out of town... (this is a bad mommy story so feel free to laugh at me)
Anthony and I have a pretty set evening routine. We eat dinner, we play, and we watch our "night night" shows. All was going well with dinner this particular night... I even managed to do a little cleaning on the house while A ate. I was giving myself a mental pat on the back for being such a good mom and housekeeper. I think God decided to humble me b/c of this. After dinner we were playing and getting ready to watch our shows when it hit me.
Oh no.. I don't feel so good. I ran to the bathroom and alllllllll of my food began coming up. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. Little Anthony was confused and followed me into the bathroom to check on me. I did my best to distract him in between visits with ralph, but he got a little tooooo curious, and as my food is FLOWING out of my mouth.. yes disgusting right?? I see this little hand go in front of me. Oh no. Really?? Did I just puke on my kid?? A few moments later, I regain composure and look over to check on the boy. He is standing there... frozen.. examining his little hand/arm and wondering What.the.eff... just happened to him. I knew I was no where near ready to help him too much, so I ripped off his shirt.. wiped him down best I could... and sent him in search of a book to read to mommy. The poor little guy did so great. He got his book and sat down and immediately began chattering to me as he turned the pages. I felt horrible. Once composure was FULLY regained I stripped him down... washed him up really good... and gave him a cookie before bed.
I am probably the only mom out there who can say she threw up ON her kid. Sad.
No extreme episodes since then. THANKFULLY!! Looks like that mother of the year award just went right out the window ;)
